Haunted
by RogueSummersLover
Summary: Reality is what you make of it; an ever-changing perspective. What is the experience of one will not be the same for the other. Whatever will Syaoran do without his beloved Sakura. Hopefully, you'll read it. S/S E/T T/Y Give it a chance? Also, in search of a beta reader :) Rated T for now, but may go to M just in case.
1. End of the dream

He never expected to feel this much pain. This was worse than anything he had ever experienced. Worse than the coldness his mother showed him. Worser then when his father died. And even worse than anything physical pain he endured in his years. Nothing prepared him for this heart-shattering, breath-stilling, body-crushing pain.

He sucked in a breath. His body felt too heavy. Everything was too heavy, encircling him. Air around him seemed thicker, denser. His throat tightened, causing the little air he was able to get to come in short huffs. Little black dots poked at his vision. The dots grew bigger until the edges of his eyesight seemed grayer then the wall. Reaching his quivering hand toward the column, he tried to brace himself.

Closing his eyes tight, he tried to will the panic away. Harder still he willed his mind to reach a blank state. He would have time to greave some where else away from everyone surrounding him. He couldn't break down here. Not while _she_ was watching.

No, he couldn't afford for her to see this. She would use this against. Claim he was still weak. Perhaps even weaker than he was in childhood. She would never forgive him for this episode.

Slowly, his vision cleared, throat loosened, and the quivering stopped. Pushing away from the wall, he opened his eyes. He turned towards the woman who's sharp eyes never left her son.

"It pains me to see you like this."

The woman reached her long slender hand to cup his cheek. His eyes hardened. All trace of the pain he felt mere moments ago, hidden.

"Do not lie, Mother." He all but growled. The woman's pale fingers dug into his cheek. She did not hide the disapproval written on her face.

"Be careful, _Syaoran_. The elders are watching."

Iciness licked at the edge of her voice. He hid a shudder. Too many times he had faced that voice. Immediately he locked eyes with her but did not utter another word nor allowed his body to twitch in irritation.

"As I said before," her silvery voice returned. "She's gone." Her lips curved maliciously. "She is no longer your concern." Cold fingers gripped his cheek slightly harder to emphasize the intended pain.

Briefly, pain etched over his eyes. He had to remain calm..blank…no emotion. She did not need the satisfaction. A cough echoed in the room, startling them. Instantly she let her cold icy fingers drop from his face. She shot him another malicious twist of her lips, then turned to the elders in the back of the room.

"Gentle men, our lives just became much easier."

She sauntered closer. Standing before the four elderly men clad in traditional robes, she clapped her hands. Quite pleased with whole interaction, one elder stood.

"Speak more, daughter," his hoarse voice came. Holding out his hand for her to continue, his robes swayed with the action.

Clad in her ceremonial priestess robes and headdress, she bowed daintily and precisely. Clinking echoed in the silent, stale room as the golden charms of her belt clicked and clacked against each other. Loose dark tendrils fell from her matching gold headdress to framed her porcelain complexion. The snow white gown fluttered around her as she raised her head.

Syaoran watched with disdain. He couldn't bare to her hear utter the demise of his lover again. Especially to the council. Neither his mother nor his elders approved of his chosen, believing her to be worthless to the clan. How wrong they had been. He frowned, lips tight at the thought. _Past tense_. At the thought, his chest tightened and his heart dropped. Dropping his head to hide the emotions threatening to break through, his brown locks shielded his amber eyes. Tears prickled his eyes. For the second time, he had remind himself that this was not the place, not the time.

"…As I said before, the girl, is gone…"

Amber eyes snapped to glare at the back of his mother at the mere mention of _his_ girl. He clenched his fists. Anger took over the sadness the ate at his heart. He knew with certainty, that she had done something. This was her fault. No one else in this world would want to rip her away from this realm. She was too cheerful, too happy, too loving for anyone to dislike her.

"I must admit, things have worked out in our favor." Another elder's voice croaked. Raising himself out of his own chair, he walked over to his fellow councilman. The first nodded in agreement, eyes sparkling with excitement. He turned slightly to address the young man. "Leave us, child, " His voice boomed with authority.

Syaoran narrowed his eyes suspiciously for he knew that his entire clan was conspiring against him. He straightened his body and raised his eyes to level with his elder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that his mother scrunched her face in displeasure. For now, he lowered his gaze submissively. Now was not the time to challenge his clan. He vowed to himself that he would avenge her.


	2. Whisper

The cold rain prickled against his skin, causing goose bumps to rise. Droplets fell from the sky onto his already saturated chestnut bangs descending to his thick eyelashes, and then finally trailing down smooth pale skin to land on the paling green blades of grass beneath him. A chilling breeze brushed against his already trembling form. Dead brown leaves rustled and broke free from their limbs to fly within the weak breeze, momentarily having a glimpse of life again only to fall hard and lifeless.

The man before her mourned in solace. All the others had left as soon as the shower had started. But this man, lonely and cold, wept through the rain. As if the rain was an excuse to hide his pain. If her heart was still beating, it would stop at the sight. She longed to reach out, caress his face, dry his tears, anything to ease his pain.

Hours before, there were so many people there that she cared about. Even her elementary friends had shown! She hadn't seen Rika in so long. Never before had she felt this much pride at seeing her friends and family. She prayed that they wouldn't remember the harder times, the sadder times, but more so happy, and go-lucky, funny times.

As she wondered closer, she could see that flowers had decorated the small plot. Nadeshiko and Sakura flowers hung in various wreaths in hearts and circles. Some were scattered around the casket, others flittered in the breeze twirling and dancing with loose leaves, causing small whirlwinds of life.

The casket was simple but closed. On top, was a large white and pink bouquet of Irises and Sakura blossoms. Hanging photos dripped from the almost-naked tree limbs near the gravesite. They reminded her of little fairy lights guiding and coaxing her closer. Rather than have a large grey stone mark the area, her family had chosen a thick, strong Cherry Blossom tree. Although short-lived, the spring would bring beautiful bright pink blossoms that would eventually fall and kiss her grave a the end of its season. Quite fitting, she thought. Indeed, this was more western inspired than traditional Japanese, but she didn't mind. Her family had never abided by traditional religious constraints anyway, the only sentiment.

No one was sitting in the few black chairs that encircled the tiny plot. Not that they were there for decoration, but more so in case that someone needed to sit. Everyone mingled, whispering and clinging to each other.

She smiled despite herself and the somber mood surrounding her friends and family. They had chosen to celebrate her life and those that she had loved most, and all the memories they had shared together.

Her father, the strongest man she knew, was encircled with various condolences and sorrows and tears that she frowned with guilt. He shouldn't have to deal with this pain again. Not after suffering through her own mother's demise many years ago. But here he was, standing tall, and thanking each condolence with a small smile gracing his lips.

Only a few meters away stood two men. Her brother, though shorter than the other still towered over most of the attendees. Angled away from the crowd, the men whispered amongst themselves.

She sighed as more guilt washed over her. Her brother and his lover. There wasn't a day that she didn't look up to either of them. Despite how he teased her constantly, she knew that he loved and cared for her.

She snuck closer to her brother. He unconsciously leaned closer to his counterpart. The gentleman raised his hand to rest on his shoulders in silent support. Tears glistened in his eyes but did not fall.

Her heart ached. He was the second strongest man in her life. Looking to him as an example, she tried to live her life as a hardworking, but caring individual. Growing up she had been so annoyed by him. He would steal her food, poke fun of her, call her monster, but as the years passed, annoyance faded into humor and admiration.

Suddenly, he stiffened and looked around. She sadly watched on. He must feel her presence, she thought, backing away slowly. She didn't intend to cause more suffering than he was already feeling.

Even as a child, her brother was always in-tuned to her presence, always knowing when she was near. She watched as he looked directly at her. Piercing crimson eyes met hers. She froze, unsure if he could actually see her.

Noticing that Touya had stiffened, Yukito started and whipped his head around. She backed farther away, closer to the trunk of the tree., hoping to avoid her beloved brother. The taller, grey-haired man leaned down and whispered into the other's ear, effectively pulling the knowing eyes from hers.

She loved Yukito more than most baby sisters would. He always said the kindest, most sincere, and beautiful things to her, bought her presents, and gently reminded her that Touya really did care for her. In that instance, she knew her brother would be fine. He had their father, but more importantly, he had Yukito, and there was no-one else she wanted him to spend his life with.

Approaching her brother, she saw the next closest people to her. Her long-time, closest best friend. Holding the woman's hand was her new husband. Despite his dalliance with Mizuki in England, Eriol and Tomoyo had eventually made amends and rekindled their romance.

Being a part of their wedding was one of her monumental joys in life. Seeing her best friend with pure happiness had filled her with hope and love. Despite facing many troubles, love won in the end; that alone gave her courage to face her own future.

Despite the crowd, there was one person that her heart ached to see. He should have been there. He was her most important person. But, she resigned, maybe it would have been better for him not to be there. She didn't now that he would handle this well. Or, so she thought briefly, that he didn't actually know. She shook her head at the thought. Her brother wouldn't let that happen. Yukito would never let her brother do anything otherwise.

But honestly, could she handle seeing his pain? She could handle her own. In fact, she accepted it. It was easier than she thought. This was the path had saved him from future painful moments. She knew that. She chose that.

She placed her hand on her heart and closed her eyes. Deep down, she knew he would know. They were connected, always have been. He would come. Whether she could face him or not would be a different question, not that he would see her.

Tucked away behind her refuge, she watched as everyone finally settled in for the ceremony. Nothing too intricate or too extravagant. Just the way she wanted. There was no officiant, no officer, no church clergy to lead. Her dad stood tall at the center with the wreaths and broken petals as a backdrop. He spoke of how she was full of life, always cheerful, her breezy personality, and her love for each one.

Then everything stopped.

The breeze stilled, the air grew thick and heavy, clouds blossomed in the sky. A chill crept through the warm sun's glow, warning them. It was as if nature knew that something changed. Sakura felt herself freeze with everything around her. There, standing just below the green hill, was the man that she dreaded but longed to see.

She couldn't but help stare longingly. How handsome he looked dressed solemnly in his business suit. Even after several months or so apart, his handsomeness always took her breath away. Sakura watched from her perch, splinters bitting at her hands. (She wished she could feel that or anything for that matter.)

For a brief moment, solemn amber eyes stared right through her, giving her grimace of a hope that he could see her, feel her. But the second passed, and he briskly walked up to her father, farther away from her. She needed to be closer, needing to feel his presence, his warmth. Just being near him, she hoped, would soothe her.

A hush fell over her friends as the man bowed, low and deeply, in front of her father. The man, embarrassed but, deeply touched, gripped her lover's shoulder and let a small sad smile grace his lips. The chestnut haired man remained bowed for a few more moments, straightened, and met the soft brown eyes with his own. He was about to speak, to say something, anything when her father shook his head. There wasn't a word to describe either of their shared pains: a father losing his daughter, or lover losing his soul mate.

"Brat."

A gruff, husky voice broke the silence. Immediately, the man stiffened. Touya and Yukito had walked closer to the pair of men without Sakura even noticing. She could have smacked him. It had been years since he had called her lover that. Childhood! She glared heavily at her brother, hoping he could feel her wrath.

Forgetting why they were together in the first place, both men glared at each other. Her love closed his eyes, frowned, and made a fist. She knew he hated that nickname. Her brother knew it too, he always liked to taunt him. Yukito, grabbed Touya's arm to chastise him. Sakura breathed a silent thank you to the gods.

Surprising everyone, her brother reached out to the man, grabbed a hold of his black suit jacket collar, and wrapped him into a brotherly hug. Neither men were known for their sentiment, but this warmed everyone's hearts. Breathes hitched and a new wave of tears engrossed the group. Gone were the smiling and laughing face of her friends. Now, everything was real. No more happy memories as they chatted.

Stiffening at first, but submitting into the hug, Syaoran held onto her brother. After he had been released, he straightens, and let his messy hair fall over his eyes to hide. He couldn't let them see him cry. That was for her only. Only she knew that weakness. Neither his mother nor sisters or even Mei Lin had seen him cry.

"Touya." He gasped into the man's shoulder. Struggling hard to keep his unshed emotions in check. Touya pulled back and nodded.

"I know, kid." The boys stared at each other for a minute longer, exchanging their own silent conversation of pain and understanding.

As Touya stepped back towards Yukito for comfort, her father stepped closer.

"Come, Syaoran. Sit next to us." Her father ushered him closer to him and the forgotten chairs.

A hush remained over the crowd as her family sat. Guests took their seats only after each family members was seated.

Sakura could do nothing but watch on as they proceeded with her own memorial. Her brother spoke first and told them of his "Kaiju" who'd wake up late and stomp around with breakfast hanging from her mouth, the "kaiju" who was terrified of ghosts _(ironic)_ and he'd have to rescue her from the dark, and then his dear sister who grew into a beautiful woman with her always perky demeanor. Gods, she could have killed him for the "kaiju". They didn't need to know about that! She couldn't help but chuckle though. They were funny childhood memories.

After her brother, many took their time to celebrate their memories of her. As each person continued to speak, she couldn't help but to tune them out and turn to her own thoughts.

She needed to know this was worth everything she gave up. Was this worth it? To die, to end everything? She'd no longer laugh or cry. No late night phone calls. No more shopping sprees or unwanted modeling sessions. No more pancakes or cakes. Was this worth giving up in order to make sure hi would experience all of it instead?

In a rare moment of selfishness, she couldn't but help but regret her decision. She was going to miss so much more than she thought. Perhaps she took for granted her life. It was so simple, but it was happy and full of love.

Movement caught her eye. While she had been doubting herself, the funeral had come to an end. Before her, her father stood in front of everyone. He bowed to his guests, told them how much joy it brought him, and thanked them for coming. He motioned for Touya, Yukito, and Syaoran to stand with him, signaling that this was the end.

Each guest came forward, bowing in front of each member of the family. Sakura left her sanctuary and came to stand by her father. She touched each shoulder in a silent thank you and good bye. It was only proper of her to do so. They had each meant too much to her, gave her joy, and love, and happiness. She wished them well.

From the corner of her eyes, she watched the four men, lidded with their own expressions. Her father, kind as always, smiled. Her brother, solemn and awkward, nodded his thanks. Yukito, ever friendly, hugged them. And then there was her dearest heart. He stood tall, stoic, apathetic, and regal like he was taught. He shook their hands but nothing more. Her heart ached.

At the very end of the trail, Tomoyo came through. She hesitated before her father but hugged him and then her brother and then finally Yukito, but she paused in front of Syaoran. A fresh wave of tears prickled her eyes. Trembling from crying, she reached out to him. Her trembling pale hand held limp in the air for a moment. Syaoran glanced at her with dead eyes. She squeezed her eyes at the unfairness of this situation. A father shouldn't bury his daughter; a brother shouldn't have to watch on helplessly; a lover should never be parted from his. Tomoyo blinked. She raised her limp hand to cup Syaoran's cheek. She would make sure that neither men would suffer alone. Cupping his cheek, she brought herself to hug him.

"You are not alone." She whispered into his ear. "Please don't pull away from us."

Though he remained silent, he placed a hand on her shoulder, letting her know that he understood. Tomoyo pulled back and sadly smiled at him.

"You know you are more than welcome to stay with us."

Syaoran nodded but did not say anything. She sighed and walked toward her waiting husband.

Watching him, she shook away her previous uncertainties. Yes. She would do everything in her absolute power for that man so that he could experience everything she could not. He deserved to live. He had achieved so much—opened up so much. The others would help him too.

Finally, the men turned to each other to make further plans. Sakura drifted away from her father and brother, closer to Syaoran. She stood close to him, hoping to feel his warmth. She wanted nothing more than to hold him, but help ease his silent suffering. It was her fault alone that he was. She slipped her hand around his hoping that he could feel her, wanting every power in the universe that he could feel her comfort. Instead, she felt him shudder. Fearing that she had done more harm than good, she ripped her hand from his and backed away.

She watched as he shuddered again, briefly wondering if it had gotten colder. Another breeze swept through the little plot, causing more flower petals and leaves to swirl. The sun dipped behind several greying clouds, causing darkness to grow. A stronger gust tore through the area, ripping away the guiding photos and lights from the trees. Her father approached Syaoran and embraced him. After pulling away, he squeezed his shoulder and nodded sullenly.

"You come home soon." Touya slapped his shoulder, turned, and walked away, leaving Syaoran alone.

She regretted everything almost instantly. She couldn't leave him alone like this. This, she should have faced together with him. Not let him suffer alone. Her love faced with a long journey of anguish and solitude and misery as she was not going to be there for him.

If there were tears she could shed, they would have left their own rivers. The ache that tore through her while watching him should have killed her again. She would face a thousand more deaths than watch him suffer. Again, she wanted nothing more than to reach her hand out and cup his cheek and whisper in his ear that things would be fine.

This is something neither had planned. This wasn't allowed to come between them. This wedge, this _horrible_ wedge, torn them apart when nothing else could. A gasp of pain escaped his mouth and she jerked forward, getting as close as she could possibly be. If her breath was still warm, he would have felt it. No, she would not leave him, she decided.

She reached out in hope, wishing against all hope that he would feel the simple caress, just a whisper of her presence. She inched closer, her face barely grazing his; their noses practically touched. Placing her hand against his cold wet cheek, she cupped it. A shiver erupted from his form. Whether, it was from her, the pain, or the rain, she couldn't tell; but, there was a glimmer of hope that blossomed inside her cold, non-beating heart.

Perhaps, she thought, maybe death wouldn't separate them. That perhaps, they really would be able to overcome this. Perhaps, everything would work out.


End file.
